


Drag me down

by Hopeful_Foolx



Series: OTP absolute cinnamon rolls [2]
Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Elnor has a lot of pillows, Elnor is not okay, Elnor needs a hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I'm never ever going to write smut and definetly not with Hugh and Elnor, It's night and they are tired and I don't want them to make sense, Just to make sure we are clear on that: Hugh is alive, Literal Sleeping Together, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Slow Burn, Sorry guys, Tears, The conversation may make no real sense, They need hugs, all the hugs, is for the whole series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx
Summary: Some things need time. Memories for example, they need time to be processed. And sometimes, they turn into something else.Or: Companion to Aren't we bright/In the candlelight, but tonight, Elnor has a nightmare.
Relationships: Elnor & Hugh | Third of Five
Series: OTP absolute cinnamon rolls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667231
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	Drag me down

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, this is not beta read, or even properly proof-read, but I felt the need to write this so I did that and just posted it. Might correct things later. Probably will.

It’s supposed to be dark at night. On Vashti, the nights had always only ever been dim. The light in the monastery stayed on, the stars were bright and sometimes Elnor even got the see their tiny red moon, slightly bigger than a star. It had reminded him of home in it’s color, and he looked at it with hope. He thought of Picard then, and going to space. For his new family, or maybe, to be with Picard as his family. He was home here, yes, but he knew that he didn’t belong, not really. Not with the nuns, at least. He once came up with the idea that people also didn’t belong to space, since they needed vessels to travel in it. Like he needed a boat to cross a river, because he didn’t belong there, only fish did. Maybe in the same way, people didn’t belong to space and that was why they were so eager to find planets. Space was supposed to be darkness, and along with that, an  _ endless _ darkness. But since there were stars, he was sure it was just another story. Space couldn’t be bad, Picard came here from space, on a ship, and if one could navigate a ship through it, like a boat through water while not being a fish, it couldn’t be too bad of a place. He dreamed of going there. 

Oh, what a fool he’s been. 

It’s a dark and endless void around him. Nothingness as far as he can see, and he wouldn’t know if it even was far. He might as well have gone blind. Nothingness, blindingly dark, nothing around him. He has his knees drawn up to his chest and his body, that he is at least able to see his body is the only proof that he has not indeed gone blind. He can’t move, and if could, he wouldn’t, the ground is moving, everything seems to move, while up and down doesn’t  _ work _ , every rule he’s been taught stopped working, so he doesn’t move. 

The word he feels is terrified. 

Deeply. Utterly. Terribly terrified. It’s open and far, but the same way it is too close and putting pressure on every bone in ribcage, freezing every bit of air solid so he can’t even breathe. Freezing. They said space would be cold, and he is cold. Frozen in place, stuck to what isn’t up-or-down, what is no floor and no ceiling and no wall to press against. It’s around him, behind him, under him and he can’t see if something, someone, is there. 

Right now he would cry with relief is someone was there, even if it was his worst enemy. If he could talk, if his mouth wouldn’t be frozen shut by shivering he would beg for it. For a voice, for any contact to drown out the nothingness that deafens all his senses. He can only feel the cold. He can hear is own frantic breathing and any attempt to calm himself makes him even colder, sucks the air out of his lungs even more. 

He’s alone, he’s completely and utterly alone in the darkness for all of eternity. Lost in it, trapped in it, trapped on a spot of coldness. Trapped in the all-consuming nothingness. Terrified and alone. He pressed his face onto his knees so they press against his eyes, makes himself as small as he can be, but even with closed eyes there is only nothingness, darkness, cold, silence, nothing more, until-

Someone screams. It’s high-pitched and his head shoots up, he longed for a voice, he longed for someone else but not this, not this, no screams, please- He doesn’t even know who it was, he doesn’t recognize the voice but a scream in the nothingness, a body-less scream is even worse. He can’t pinpoint a direction, he can’t protect or help whoever it was who screamed, he is trapped and locked in place. No toes hold him, no hands from the ground, the cold is paralyzing him, and he tries to escape but he can’t. 

He tries not to cry.

To be a warrior, to be strong and a fighter, but what is the point when he is alone? Nobody will come to rescue him, and he can’t rescue himself. Nobody is there to tell him to be strong, or to mock his tears, if there would he wouldn’t cry! Nobody comes to shout or mock or comfort and he cries because nothing makes sense anymore. He cries because he doesn’t remember the last time he was so scared. The last time he wanted something to end so bad.

Except he does, the memory of the green light and the cold metal floor is still there, but it had ended, someone had come, someone had saved him. The knowledge that breaks him is that nobody will come this time. 

He waits for another scream. For the voice to cry out in agony again, but nothing comes. Has he only imagined it? Was it nothing more than a trick of his confused and terrified mind? Is he going mad? Is he already? 

He listens to the sounds of his own panicked breathing and tries to remember why he is here,  _ what have I done, what have I done _

It’s too sudden that the nothingness gets shaken like an earthquake is happening, and suddenly, someone is calling his name,  _ am I dying? Am I dying now? _ A voice, not the voice who screamed earlier, it seems to come from all around him, and then there is a hand on his arm- 

The darkness vanishes suddenly, gives way to light and a room with dim lights and softness underneath his bare feet and touch on his arm, he whips around to see, see where he is now, how he is now, who is screaming and-

Nobody is screaming. For a moment, there is not even a spoken word, not his name, nothing. Only his harsh breathing and the blurred figure next to him, that moves and is closer now and is it real? Real like the softness under him and the light and the room is it real?

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re awake, you’re awake now!” The warmth spreads over his face and he wants to fight but finds his arms both tightly wrapped around his torso, as if to physically hold it together, and it is just now that he blinks and looks and tries to make sense. Hugh is crouched next to him, both hands on Elnor’s cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs and trying to look at him, but is he real? Is anything real? Is he awake? Was it really just a dream? He still has his arms wrapped around himself, kneeling on the mattress, trying to breathe, in and in and in and in and-

“Look at me, Elnor, please, look at me, okay? I’m here, you’re here, you are awake, do you hear me?” The hands on his face are warm and he stops moving for long enough to stare where they belong to, because hands mean person and person means not alone and not alone means- 

Hugh withdraws his hands from Elnors face and rests them on his shoulders, still warm and touching and real, and he is saying words, he is talking, here, real-

He chokes back a sob as he half-falls, half leaps forward and hears a surprised intake of air, but the moment he buries his face in the crook of his neck, Hugh hugs him back.

“It’s alright, you’re okay.” Hugh adjusts and the hand that comes up to the back of his head is hesitant at first, before carefully stroking over his hair. He is warm, warm and alive, he is alive and it’s not dark in here, he can see that it is not dark and cold in here, while he is still shivering with cold.

“No, actually, you are freezing- how-” He sounds confused, and Elnor doesn’t really care about  _ what _ he says as long as he talks. The humming of the ship, warmth, he is still panting and the tears keep coming, but Hugh doesn’t mov. 

“How did you manage that?” Elnor tightens his hold and he feels his breath becoming quicker when Hugh lets go of him, but then his voice is back the same moment. 

“You’re cold, I won’t go away, even though we should maybe move or this is going to hurt you on the long run, but I’m getting a blanket. I don’t know how you managed to nearly freeze solid in here, but you did, and there are more than enough pillows and blankets in all shapes and forms on this bed.” He is talking as if he feels that Elnor needs him to, desperately needs him to prove with every option that is available to him that he is alive and real. A warm weight is put over his back and shoulders and the the arms are back, over the blanket. 

“That’s better, I think. I just need you to breathe now, can you do that? Nice and slow. I won’t go away, or let go, but you need to take deep breaths for me.” He sounds calm and collected and Elnor  _ hears _ him. He needs to breathe. There is enough air in the room. It’s not freezing. Breathing. His own breathing is only slowly back to normal, but the shivering stops with the warmth of the blanket and that somewhat helps. 

“Just like that, you’re doing great. Wherever it was you were in your dream, you’re here now. In our room. You’re okay, and you’re not alone.” 

“’m not alone.” He chokes away the first word and swallows to try again. “You’re here.” 

“Yes, we’re both here. And you are not a hu- romulan icicle anymore, which is great.” 

“I was… freezing.” Hugh only hums in response and Elnor slowly lifts his head. He wants to stay like this forever, he doesn't want to let go. But this position is not comfortable for either of them. Hugh lets him sit up and watches him carefully, but seems to understand and leans against the wall behind the bed. They are nearly in the same position as a few nights ago, and Elnor can tell that they are both having the same thought for a moment, before he climbs up next to him. Physical comfort is something they both crave and long to have, but neither of them has a lot of experience with it. Elnor is used to tall people and nearly runs over the crew when he hugs them, and he doesn’t know how it is for Hugh, other than he is hesitant and never asking, normally not engaging, while at the same time never rejecting any of it. This is new to both of them, and one of the reasons Elnor is glad for their silent arrangement to stick together. 

“Are you feeling better? Do you need something?” Hugh is tucking the blanket around him and reason tells Elnor to make him stop, since he is not supposed to be coddled like a child, but reason didn’t help him with his terror, while Hugh did. 

“This shouldn’t happen.” Hugh looks at him surprised and still puts an arm around him, and Elnor has the words of protest on his tongue only after he melts into his side. 

“I shouldn’t have these dreams, not anymore. I should be stronger than that, I am a warrior, and we shouldn’t have nightmares like children.” There is bitterness in his voice. 

“You know that I have nightmares too.” Hugh strokes his shoulder and Elnor curses himself for saying it like that. 

“But what happened to you, on the Artifact, what you had to see- I’m a warrior, I’m supposed to protect my charge and not...” He wants to gesture around, but his hands are safely tucked under the blanket and he can’t.

“And… I was supposed to be a leader, you know. Protect my people. And still I am told that what happened to them was out of my control - well, rationally it was, but… It doesn’t feel like it. And I nearly died, the nearly only thanks to you, since I wouldn’t be  _ here _ if you wouldn’t have been there. Which makes you a really good warrior in my eye.”

“I still couldn’t protect you. And I didn’t even check, I just ran. And it was… Cold, and dark, and never, I have never felt so … alone. I don’t want to feel like that again, but it… It came back. I was alone, and I couldn’t breathe, move-” 

“I know how it feels.” Hugh sighs. “It’s terrifying, and I’m not surprised you’re dreaming about it.”

“I still shouldn’t. A warrior's mind is calm and collected, if I can’t be that, then I am not of a great worth to anyone, not to my charge, not to myself.” 

“You are not a machine, you are a living being, and it means that you have feelings. That doesn’t make you less worthy in anyone’s eyes, on the contrary. You stayed on the Artifact, while you could have left. And that wasn’t much of a rational decision.” Elnor squints up at him.

“No, it wasn’t. And I don’t know if it was the right decision - I should have stayed with Picard. I didn’t. And everything was confusing from then on.” He’s thought about it too much already and it’s not what he should say right now, since they are both tired, and he is still shaken and they both should sleep, but it’s out quicker than he wants it to be. To his surprise, Hugh seems unfazed by it. He just adjusts the pillows with his free hand and pulls up the rest of the reachable blankets.

“For me, at least, it was.” He then says, in a matter-of-fact voice. There is a moment of silence after that, it seems like neither of them know how to  _ work  _ with the topic Elnor just brought up. But when Elnor wants to apologize, wants to offer to ignore everything he just said, Hugh shakes his head, “We both came here from the Artifact… with a few more new experiences we didn’t need” Elnor huffs a laugh at that. It’s an understatement, but at least somewhat close to the truth. 

“That’s a gentle way of putting it.” Elnor burrows deeper into the blankets. 

“Yes, because I think this is a longer conversation.” The dim light stays on, even as Hugh lies back down, he still lets Elnor stay close. There are more blankets involved now, and even though he is warm now, Elnor can’t let go. It’s an awkward sprawl of limbs and movement, but somehow they manage to get close without kicking each other. The light stays on when he is falling back asleep, and he is half-gone when he has one last thing on his mind that he needs to say, not even sure if Hugh is still awake, not even awaiting an answer.

“Maybe I don’t regret staying. Because I like you, being here. With me” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Come fill my inbox/ message me with screaming on tumblr as @strangestarlightmusic


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